


Hold Me in Your Heart

by McBangle



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Drinking to Cope, Families of Choice, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Jack Zimmermann's Overdose, Mental Health Issues, Non-Chronological, Past Kent Parson/Jack Zimmermann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-20 19:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11341524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McBangle/pseuds/McBangle
Summary: Kent Parson doesn’t need another dad. His own was bad enough. He and his sister have gotten along just fine without one ever since his mom finally kicked that piece of s*** out once and for all. He definitely doesn’t need some ex-hockey star pretending to be a dad to him.For bookwyrmling (rushingsnowy), who requested Kent and his relationship with Bob and Alicia, before Jack's overdose or after (I opted for both!), and for me to break the seal on the Kent & Alicia relationship tag!





	Hold Me in Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookwyrmling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwyrmling/gifts).



> Please mind the tags! Trigger warnings for mental health issues, discussions of Jack's overdose, unhealthy relationships with alcohol, implied past emotional abuse, and negative self-talk. But with a happy ending, I swear!

**2006**

Kent Parson doesn’t need another dad. His own was bad enough. He and his sister have gotten along just fine without one ever since his mom finally kicked that piece of shit out once and for all. He definitely doesn’t need some ex-hockey star pretending to be a dad to him.

At sixteen, Kent has seen it all. The “uncles” who come and go from his life too quickly to make an impression. The teachers who make him their special projects for a year, but are too busy with new students the next. The coaches that practically worship the ground he walks on as long as he keeps scoring hatties, but order him to keep his personal life off the ice when he’s struggling to keep his shit together.

And Bob is the same as all the rest. Another person trying to make nice with Kent for unknown reasons of his own. Bob’s just better at faking it than most people are. After all, he’s a celebrity. The Habs and the Pens probably trained him in how to act charming and say all the right things. You don’t just forget that the moment you retire.

Sure, it was nice of the Zimmermanns to volunteer to be a billet family. They obviously don’t need the stipend. They gave him a really nice room, shuttle him around in their fancy car and let him use their stuff. But Kent knows that nobody is that generous unless they want something from him. He hasn’t figured out what it is yet, but he will.

Maybe they want him to help that son of theirs. The hockey prodigy, who’s as boring as a sack of rocks. His game is precise but he has no pizzazz.

Kent wonders idly if Bob and Alicia are as boring as their son is when they’re not acting all fakey-fake nice. Is boring genetic? It must be, because no one in Kent’s family could ever be accused of that, and look at how Kent turned out. He’s the most interesting person in any room.

A knock on his bedroom door interrupts his thoughts. Bob pokes his head into the room. “Are you hungry? Jack and I are in the mood for poutine. Would you like to join us?”

Kent pulls a face. “Poo-teen? What’s that?”

Bob grins widely and ruffles Kent’s hair. “You’re in for a treat. Grab your shoes, we’re going out. Just don’t tell Alicia, or I’ll never hear the end of how I helped you and Jack cheat on your diets.”

Kent smirks and rolls his eyes. “Sure, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Bob claps Kent on the shoulder. “One of these days, I’ll get you to call us Bob and Alicia. We don’t stand on ceremony around here.” He leans in conspiratorially. “Although, if your nutritionists get wind of this, just tell ‘em Bad Bob says gravy and curds are good for your muscles. It’ll make you strong like bull!” He fakes a punch in the direction of Kent’s left bicep and then jogs out the door.

And honestly, this is the kind of behavior that would drive Kent crazy if he let it. What kind of benefit could Bob possibly be getting from taking him out for…

…Wait a minute…

“Gravy and curds?”

_/ ✿ \\_

**2021**

Kent straightens his tie for the ten thousandth time. It’s _almost_ perfect. If it were only the teeniest, tiniest bit straighter…

Damnit, his foot won’t stop jiggling.

He turns away from the mirror, taking deep slow breaths.

_One_ … He has nothing to be nervous about it.

_Two_ … He’s got this.

_Three_ … Nobody could be more prepared for this day than he is.

_Four_... He's triple-checked everything on the list. He’s fine.

_Five_ … He pulls the folded checklist out of his pocket. He breathes easier at the sight of three neat check marks next to each item on his list.

_Six_ … Oh fuck.

Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Why are there only two check marks next to the caterer?

Maybe he should sit down.

He scrambles for his cell phone and calls the caterer.

“Mr. Parson, shouldn’t you be busy right now?” the caterer chides him.

“Just… how are the appetizers?” he asks while putting his head between his knees.

“Plated and ready to go,” the caterer assures him.

“And the fish?”

“Fresh and local, and being prepped.”

“And the wine? Are you sure you have enough wine?” Kent takes a deep breath in through his nose and lets it slowly out through his mouth.

“Mr. Parson, are you checking up on me? Haven’t we had this conversation twice already?” Kent can hear the edge of annoyance in the caterer’s voice.

“Can you just reassure me one more time?” Kent pleads.

The caterer sighs heavily. “The food is perfect. We have more than enough for your guests. Now relax and enjoy yourself, Mr. Parson! Let me worry about the food.”

“Okay. You’re right. Thanks. See you soon.” Kent hangs up the phone and stuffs it back in his pocket. She’s right. Everything’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about.

He puts his face in his hands and takes four more deep breaths.

_Seven_ … He closes his eyes and concentrates on slowing his heartbeat.

_Eight_ … Damn, whoever came up with the idea of putting your head between your knees when you’re panicking really knew what they were doing. It’s very calming.

_Nine_ … He sinks his head further downward, his fingers slipping into his hair.

_Ten_ … He’s got this.

He slowly stands up, careful not to rise too quickly. He can handle this. He just has to keep himself focused on the present and just relax and…

Against his better judgement, he sneaks a glance at the mirror.

Oh, fuck! His hair is a goddamn mess! Who the fuck came up with the idea of putting your head between your knees when you’re panicking? It’s fucking murder on the hair!

_/ ✿ \\_

**2008**

“Zimms, the party tonight is going to be off the chain. We _have_ to be there,” Kent coaxes his liney. He’s sitting cross-legged on Zimms’ bed while Zimms reads a book at his desk. His room is nothing like Kent’s. It’s simple and plain, even a bit boring, and yet for some reason Kent always finds himself drawn to it.

Zimms shakes his head and turns back to his book. “We can’t go out. It’s a school night. Maman would never allow it.”

Kent scoffs. “Your parents won’t know. We’ll sneak out the back porch. _Come on_ , Zimms. Doosey’s parents are only out of town this one night, and Jonesy says he can get us a case. We’re gonna get crunk tonight!”

This finally gets Zimms’ attention. He looks horrified, his eyes so shockingly blue that Kent has to look away. “We can’t drink beer, we’re not eighteen yet! That’s illegal.”

Kent covers up the fluttering in his heart with a laugh. “You have _got_ to grow up. Everybody does it. We’re seniors in high school. This is our chance to party!”

He steps off the bed and leans over Zimms’ desk chair, smiling playfully. “Come on, Zimms. Don’t you want to live a little? Come out and have fun with me tonight.”

“Euh.” Zimms looks like a deer stuck in headlights. “I’ll think about it.” He lifts the book back over his face, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

* * *

Kent can’t stop sneaking glances at Zimms over dinner that night. It’s nice having a secret together. A thrill runs through Kent every time Zimms smiles back at him.

“Kent?”

“Hm?” He looks up to see Alicia looking pointedly at him. He must have missed something.

She sighs. “I said, eat some asparagus. It’s good for you.”

Kent snorts. “That stuff makes your pee stink.”

Zimms looks appalled. “Kent!”

Bob chuckles.                 

Alicia rolls her eyes and scoops a generous portion of asparagus spears onto Kent’s plate. “I don’t care what your urine smells like. Eat it. It’s high in fiber and vitamins, and I roasted it up with garlic. It’s delicious.”

“Okay, Mrs. Zimmermann.” Kent smirks and side-eyes Zimms again. Alicia hates it when he calls her that. She says it makes her feel old.

“And don’t even _think_ about going to your friend’s party tonight,” Alicia adds knowingly. “You boys have a chemistry test tomorrow.”

Zimms’ hand stills, fork frozen in midair. He shoots Kent a panicked look before staring down at his plate. “Sorry, Maman.” Honestly, he has no chill whatsoever. They could have plausible deniability if he weren’t practically confessing.

“Alicia, I can’t believe you would suggest such a thing!” Kent protests. He is the picture of innocence. The perfect rule-following obedient child. “We would _never_ think of going out on a school night. School is the most important thing; you taught us that.” He blinks a few times and gives her the puppy dog eyes. He is _selling it_. “Jack and I are just planning to have a study sesh tonight, that’s all.” He squeezes Zimms’ shoulder and tries with all his might to pass on a little bit of his cool. “There’s a lot of material to review, so we’ll probably be up late studying. You and Bob don’t need to wait up for us.”

Alicia smiles at Bob for some reason. “That’s so considerate of you Kent, thank you. But no, I don’t think I will be turning in early tonight. In fact, I think I will also be up late tonight, reading a novel. On the porch.”

That’s okay. That’s fine. Time for a little change of plans, that’s all. They can still sneak out the–

“And I’ll be watching the mud room. All night,” Bob adds. He is enjoying this far too much.

Kent and Zimms stare at each other. How could they possibly have known? Kent’s plan had been flawless.

Alicia snorts. “Honestly, boys, how clueless do you think we are? Do you think we don’t know what’s happening right under our noses in our own home?”

Bob shakes his head fondly.

“When did this happen, Bob? When did they turn into teenagers?” Alicia sighs dramatically.

“I was sixteen when I moved in here. You’ve only ever known me as a teenager,” Kent helpfully points out.

“Excuse me, Kent, I am having a moment here.” Alicia holds up her right hand. “It is every mother’s right and privilege to complain about her kids growing up into teenagers. You’re not going to deprive me of this on a technicality.”

“We weren’t… I’m not… you’re not…” Kent just has to find the right angle. He will. He’s just a little flustered at the moment, that’s all. Alicia’s distracted him with this “mother” talk, that’s all. It’s throwing him off his game.

“Eat your asparagus.” Alicia rolls her eyes. “And get ready for a long night of studying, because that’s _all_ you boys are going to do tonight.”

_/ ✿ \\_

**2021**

Kent desperately finger-combs his hair. He can get most of it to lie flat, but that damn cowlick insists on standing straight up. He’d spent so much time today getting it just so, and then he had to go and fuck it all up!

He’s so focused on his hair that he doesn’t notice the door opening until his mother’s voice rings out, “Kent, baby! I can’t believe it’s… wow, what happened to your hair?”

“Ugh, I know,” Kent groans, “it looks awful.”

“It’s not totally awful,” she reassures him. “It’s just that one bit. Maybe if you…” She licks the palm of her hand and stands up on tiptoes to rub her wet palm across his hair. The cowlick immediately springs back up again.

“Ew, Mom!” Kent protests.

She eyes him critically, then shrugs. “Maybe once more.” She brings her hand back up to her mouth.

“God, no!” Kent bats her hand away. “That’s what styling product is for.”

“Hmph,” she sniffs. “How much money do you spend on styling product? It doesn’t seem to be doing you a lick of good.”

“I would pay a million dollars not to get your spit in my hair ever again.” Kent wrinkles his nose.

Kent’s mother clucks her tongue at him and then clutches a fist to her mouth, her eyes misting over. “Oh baby, I never thought I’d live to see this day,” she sobs.

“Me neither,” Kent confesses. “I keep expecting someone to walk in the door and tell me it’s all been an elaborate prank, or to wake up in my old bunk bed and find that I’m twelve again.”

His mom laughs. “You’d better not! I barely managed raising the two of you the first time. I don’t think I could survive a second round.”

Kent smiles weakly.

“Oh baby, you really mean it, don’t you?” She cradles his face between her hands, wrenching his head down so that he’s eye-to-eye with her. You’d think that after being surrounded by hockey giants all day, Kent could at least feel tall around his 5’2” mom, but no, somehow he never does.

“You deserve nothing but good things,” she tells him earnestly. “I’ll never forgive that piece of shit for telling you otherwise. I know I wasn’t always a great mom, but you are the _best_ son.”

“More like your _only_ son,” Kent snarks.

“Oh Kent.” She envelops him in a hug. “You are my treasure. Never doubt that.” She pulls back and holds his face in her hands again. “You deserve all of the happiness in the world.”

A strange look crosses over her face and she focuses on something on his chin. “But you’ve got a little schmutz right there, let me get that for you.” She licks her thumb and rubs it against his chin.

“Ugh, _God_ , mom!” He jumps back. “What is _up_ with you licking my head today?”

_/ ✿ \\_

**2009**

The NHL Entry Draft was supposed to be the best day of Kent’s life. No, it was supposed to be the best day of Kent’s and Zimms’ lives. Together.

He wasn’t supposed to spend it by himself, smiling for the cameras like some fucking tool while Jack’s in the hospital.

Look. Kent’s not dumb. He’d known that the chances of him and Zimms being drafted onto the same team were pretty much nil. But it had been a nice fantasy, and he’d spent most of the past month talking about pretty much nothing but that. And like the selfish asshole his dad had always told him he was, he’d completely missed what all of his talk about the future was doing to Jack.

Kent grabs underwear by the handful from his drawer and throws them into his battered old duffle bag. The duct tape holding one of the straps together is starting to peel away. He can’t wait until he can replace it with a set of top-of-the-line luggage. He empties the underwear drawer and moves on to his tee shirts.

It’s fucking weird being all alone in this ginormous house, but what did he expect? Bob and Alicia are too busy taking care of their real son to deal with their fucked-up pseudo-foster kid. And why would they even want to see him? They’ve got to know by now that it's all his fault. That he put Jack in the hospital.

Kent shoves the tee shirt drawer closed and yanks open his pants drawer. He’d grabbed a couple of garbage bags for overflow in case he couldn’t fit everything in the duffle, but he’s not going to need them. There’s plenty of room. Even after three years of living here, he can fit all of his belongings aside from his hockey gear in one bag.

Kent doesn’t know why he’s surprised by any of this. This was always a short-term deal. He was here until the draft or until he aged out of the Q, and then he would be out.

It’s not like the Zimmermanns ever really cared about him. He was an idiot to think that they did. They’ll probably be relieved to be rid of him. One less mouth to feed. One less demand on their time.

Kent gives the room one last once-over. He double-checks all of the drawers, inside his closet, and under his bed. Everything’s packed. He might be the piece of shit that fucked over their kid, but at least Kent’s a considerate guest. He’s leaving the room the way he found it three years ago. Bob and Alicia will probably be relieved to find it empty when they come home.

Kent checks the time on his phone. The airport taxi should be here within the next few minutes. He hoists his duffle bag on one shoulder and his equipment bag on the other before picking up his sticks.

He pauses at the door like some kind of sentimental dumbass and physically fights off the urge to take yet another look around. This wasn’t home, he reminds himself. It wasn’t… no matter what he might have thought, it wasn’t some kind of a family or something. It’s just another place, and another group of people who will be happy to see him gone. They won’t be crying over him, so there’s no point in him crying over them.

He lifts his chin, flips the light switch, and pulls the door shut behind him on his way out.

_/ ✿ \\_

**2021**

“All right, I can see that you need some space,” Kent’s mom throws her hands up in the air and sighs dramatically. She very nearly collides with Zimms on her way out the door. “Oh! Mr. Zimmermann! It’s not every day that I run into a hockey legend.” She girlishly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Seriously, mom? I’m standing right here!” Kent complains.

Kent catches his mom rolling her eyes just before she pulls the door shut behind her. “I’ll leave you two to your visit.”

“Kenny.” Zimms pulls him in for a hug – not quite as robotic as usual.

“Ah, let me take a look at you.” Kent holds Zimms at arm’s length. He’s wearing a nicely-cut charcoal suit with a cornflower blue necktie. “Nice tie!” Kent appreciates. “Your man pick it out for you?”

Zimms blushes and smiles broadly. “He said it would bring out my eyes.”

“It does,” Kent agrees. “Bitty’s really done wonders for your wardrobe. He just needs to go to work on your footwear next.”

“No way,” Zimms shakes his head. “My sneakers are great.”

“Oh, I assure you they are not!” Kent quips.

“They're comfortable, they have excellent arch and ankle support,” Zimms ticks off on his fingers as he speaks, “they’re easy to find, and I never have to worry about them getting mixed up with my teammates’ in the locker room.”

“No, that is definitely not a problem you need to worry about,” Kent laughs. “No one other than you would ever want to wear those hideous things.”

Zimms barks out a laugh, and then his eyes crinkle fondly. “So this is it; the big day?”

“This is it,” Kent says nervously. “Listen, I really have to say how grateful I am that you’re standing up for me today. There was a long time when I never would have dreamed that you would do this for me.”

“Well, there was a long time when I probably wouldn’t have,” Zimms admits. “But the past is in the past.”

“I’m glad it is,” Kent nods. “I’m glad I got to be your friend.”

“Me too.” Zimms runs a hand through his hair awkwardly.

“Oh damn, that reminds me, my hair!” Kent runs back to the mirror and inspects his cowlick, still sticking stubbornly up despite all efforts to push it down. “On scale of one to ten, how fucked up does my hair look right now?”

“Euh… it looks… like your hair?”

“Wait, what?” Kent spins around to face Zimms. “Are you saying my hair always looks this fucked up?”

Zimms holds his hands up in a panic. “What? No! I don’t know! Forget I said anything. Can we talk about something else?”

“God, you’re useless.” Kent rolls his eyes fondly.

_/ ✿ \\_

**2010**

Kent is walking on air. He couldn’t have asked for a more successful rookie season. He’s been featured on the cover of Sports Illustrated and his agent is scheduling a photo shoot for his own Wheaties box. ESPN has dubbed him “Hockey’s It Boy”. He’s being hailed as single-handedly having brought the Aces to national prominence. And he’s just been named Captain. He feels pretty damn good.

He’s got about fifteen minutes to get dressed for the club before Swoops swings by to pick him up. He and the boys are going out tonight. He has a hell of a lot to celebrate. Damn, he loves Vegas. It’s like he was made for this town.

He’s just about to strip off his clothes when his phone buzzes. His heart seizes at the sight of a Facetime request from a number he hasn’t seen in a year. It’s Bob.

Kent perches on the edge of his bed and stares down at the phone in his hands. It buzzes again. Why the hell is Bob Facetiming him now? The phone buzzes a third time. What could they possibly have to say to each other, anyway? Make small talk and pretend that the Zimmermanns _didn’t_ cut Kent out of their lives? That Kent _didn’t_ cause Jack’s breakdown?

Kent’s thumb hovers over his phone. He considers declining the Facetime request, but against all reason, he accepts it.

Kent can’t believe how thrilled he feels when Bob’s face fills the screen. He’s like some dumb puppy getting excited over the sight of a former master who’s probably just going to abandon him all over again, but he can’t help it, damn it. It still feels  _nice_ to see Bob.

“Kent! I just had to call you. I heard you’d made Captain. That’s amazing! You’ve had a stellar season, son–” Kent winces as this, but if Bob notices, he doesn’t let it show. “One for the record books,” Bob continues. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to break most of my records over the course of your career.”

“Um, thanks,” Kent answers tentatively. “That’s… that’s real nice of you, Bob. Yeah, it’s been a good year. We’ve got a great group of guys, and I’m looking forward to leading them next season.”

“Ah, Kent, you don’t have to give me the press response,” Bob laughs. “You’ve got to be feeling terrific right now.”

“I am,” Kent chuckles. “Uh, yeah.” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “I… I do, I feel really great. Um, how are you? How’s, uh, how’s Jack?”

A cloud passes over Bob’s expression. He nods solemnly. “Good. Good. He’s… better. We’re doing better.” He quickly changes the subject. “I really enjoyed watching you this season, Kent. I can’t begin to express how proud Alicia and I both are of your performance this past season. It’s been amazing.”

“Thanks. That’s… that’s nice to hear.” So, what, they’re pretending like they’re friends now? God, this is uncomfortable.

Bob sighs. “This is awkward, isn’t it?”

“Um… yeah?” Kent agrees. What does Bob expect him to say? Bob’s the one who called him after a year of silence. Is he supposed to ignore the past year and what happened with Jack and just act like everything’s normal between them?

Bob frowns and takes a deep breath. He looks more serious than Kent is used to seeing him. At least, compared to how he used to act _before_. “Kent. I’m really sorry. Alicia and I should never have lost touch with you the way we did. We never intended it that way. I think you know that things were pretty rough for a while there. And Alicia and I were really tied up in Jack’s recovery.”

“No, I totally get it.” Kent shakes his head. He really didn’t need to deal with this tonight. He didn’t need to dredge up all these feelings again. He’s got to shut this down ASAP. “You had to focus on your own kid. I was out of your house and out of your hair; you didn’t have to worry about me anymore. We’re cool. Don’t worry Bob, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“That’s not true, Kent. You don’t believe that, do you?” Bob protests. “You were never ‘in my hair.’ You were a part of our household for three years. You were a part of our _family_. Alicia and I both feel terrible that we let things end the way that they did.”

And that’s… kind of nice. Or it would be nice if Kent believed him, but Kent’s too smart for that. He’s had enough people come into his life and act like they cared about him before ghosting on him to fall for it again.

“Bob, I told you I don’t blame you.” Kent holds up his left hand. “I swear to God. You guys were right to cut me out of your lives. I totally get it.”

Bob looks horrified. “That’s not…”

Kent sighs. “It was my fault, okay?” His voice gets smaller with each word. “It’s my fault that Jack… did what he did.”

Bob’s mouth gapes open.

“I put too much pressure on him.” Kent shrugs. “All I ever did was talk about the NHL and how we were going to be the perfect on-ice duo and make hockey history.” He laughs bitterly. “I was so fuckin’ busy thinking about myself that I didn’t even notice how it was affecting Jack.” He shakes his head and looks away from the phone. “You can stop pretending that you don’t already know.”

“Kent.” Bob’s voice is calm but firm. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

Kent shrugs again. Bob can deny it, but he knows what he knows.

“Kent. Look at me.”

Kent turns back to the phone. Bob looks at him steadily.

“Jack has a disease, and you didn’t cause it. His brain works differently from yours and mine. Alicia and I have known about it for a long time. We knew about it, and yet we didn’t notice–” His voice catches.

Kent’s heart thuds hard in his chest. He knows he should probably reassure Bob now, but it’s taking all of his energy to keep out all of the feelings that he’s suppressed for the past year. He doesn’t have energy left over to take care of Bob too. Damnit, he really needs a drink.

Bob’s face nearly fills up the entire screen. “Kent. Listen to me. We don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t blame yourself. This had nothing to do with you, or with your relationship with Jack.”

Kent startles. “Jack told you?”

“He didn’t have to.” Bob smirks and shakes his head. “Alicia and I knew all about it. We just figured the two of you would talk to us about it when you were ready.” He sighs. “In retrospect, we should have talked to you boys about a lot of things.”

Kent can’t quite bring himself to look at the phone and at Bob. “Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Kent. We feel terrible. _I_ feel terrible about letting you leave like that. I don’t know how to put it any plainer.” Kent sneaks a glance at Bob. Bob gazes back at him unflinchingly. If he’s shitting him, then he’s doing an expert job of it. “Alicia and I were in a panic, and in our panic we let you walk away. I should have called you that night. I should have reached out to you so much sooner. I was so wrapped up in my own fear and grief and worry about Jack that I forgot that Alicia and I weren’t the only ones who were hurting. But I’m owning up to it now. I messed up, but I want to fix it. I don’t want to keep ignoring things until they explode. I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes over and over again.” Bob’s voice cracks at this.

“And I miss you, Kent. Alicia and I both do. I meant it when I said that you were a part of our family. You still are, if you want to be.”

Kent wipes away a tear with the back of his hand. “What about Jack?”

Bob sadly shakes his head. “It’s… things are still rough for him, Kent. He’s not ready yet. But Alicia and I still want to be part of your life if you’ll let us.”

Kent’s heart feels like it’s in his throat, and he’s not positive he can speak until the words come out of his mouth. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I want that.” He nods.

_/ ✿ \\_

**2021**

Three sharp raps sound on the door, followed shortly by Bitty poking his head through the opened doorway. “Jack, they're ready for you.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of minutes.” Jack heads out, pausing only to plant a kiss on the top of Bitty’s head.

Bitty steps into the room as Jack exits it, clipboard in hand. “Finish up what you’re doing, Kent, because we’re going to need you next.” He sighs and places both hands over his heart. “Oh my word, don’t you look handsome.”

“Thanks.” Kent smiles gratefully. He runs the flat of his hand over his hair, willing his cowlick to stay in place.

Bitty bats Kent’s hand away. “Stop fussing with your hair. You’re only going to make it worse. Here.” He gestures for Kent to step closer to him, and Kent obliges. With a twist of his fingers, Bitty perfectly straightens Kent’s bow tie. He’s forgotten that it was crooked. God, what if he forgot something else?

“Did you feel like this?” he asks.

“What, blissed out? Excited? Or utterly terrified that something would go wrong and that would be the only thing that anyone would remember?” Bitty smiles blandly up at Kent.

“…That last one.”

“Kent, everybody feels that way.” Bitty squeezes Kent's hand reassuringly. “And something always goes wrong, but I guarantee you will be the only one who will remember it. All anybody ever remembers is the fun they had.”

“But what if the caterer gives everyone food poisoning and a tornado hits and the hotel burns down?” Kent blurts out.

Bitty blinks at him blankly for a few seconds. “Uh, I don’t know, sweetie. You’re on your own if all of those things happen.”

Kent’s heart just about stops.

Bitty tips his head back in peals of laughter. “Lord, Kent, none of those things are going to happen. It’s going to be lovely and everyone is going to have fun. People will be talking for the next five years about this epic bash. It’ll be trending for weeks.”

Bitty turns his head at the sound of music starting up outside the door. “That’s Jack’s cue. You’re going to be next.” He nudges Kent’s shoulder playfully. “Get on out there. It’s time to face the music – literally.”

_/ ✿ \\_

**2015**

“More boeuf bourguignon, Kent?”

Kent smirks and feigns reluctance. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly. My nutritionist would kill me if – _hell yes_ , I want another slice of your delicious boeuf bourguignon, Alicia.”

The Aces had played the Habs in Montreal today, so of course Kent had joined Bob and Alicia for dinner at their home afterward. It’s become a tradition these last four years.

Things had still been too raw for him to visit while Jack was still living at home. Even after he and Bob and Alicia had started talking again, he just hadn’t been ready to see Jack. But ever since Jack started going to Samwell, it’s freed Kent up to visit the Zimmermanns’ house any time he feels like it. Which, as it turns out, is every time he’s in Montreal for a game.

The dinner is delicious as always and the conversation delightful as ever, and it comes to an end far too soon for Kent’s liking. After they’ve thoroughly emptied their plates, Alicia rises from her seat and gives Bob a smile.

“Bob, _mon amour,_ why don’t you watch the highlights while Kent and I drink some bubbly on the porch?”

Bob gives Alicia a loving smile. It stabs Kent in the gut every time to see how perfect and in love they are. That, right there. That’s the kind of relationship that he’s always wanted to have. That’s what he thought he could have with – _No_. Stop it. Stop it, he can’t think about – **No**.

“Bubbly under the stars sounds delightful,” he smiles at Alicia.

Alicia grabs two champagne glasses from the sideboard and leads Kent to the kitchen. She gestures to the sliding glass doors leading to the porch. “Now you pick a chair and make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to get us our drinks.”

“Moët? Dom?” Kent asks hopefully.

“Evian,” Alicia turns around from the refrigerator with two glass bottles in her hands and a shit-eating grin on her face.

Kent grins ruefully and shakes his head at her. “I thought we were drinking champagne tonight?”

“I didn’t say champagne,” she shrugs, striding past him to the porch. “I said ‘bubbly’. Sparkling water is bubbly.”

Kent settles into a padded wicker chair and holds out his glass for her to fill. “God, your view is gorgeous,” he sighs. “I love being out here. It’s so quiet compared to the lights and sounds of Vegas.”

“Yes,” Alicia agrees. “It’s wonderful for quieting the mind.”

Kent shoots Alicia a suspicious glance, but she’s smiling blissfully up at the night sky.

After a moment, she takes a sip of her water and then turns to face Kent. “I’ve been following you, you know.”

“Yeah,” Kent shrugs before taking a sip of his own. “You retweet me all the time.”

“Not just Twitter.” She shakes her head. “I’ve been tracking you on TMZ and Deadspin.”

“Ugh,” Kent groans. “Who do they have me with this time? Benn? Geno? They’re a bunch of rags, you know not to trust them.”

“No, not the shipping,” Alicia cuts him off. “I’ve been seeing a lot of reports about you out partying, stumbling out of bars, getting into fights off the ice. It’s not like you, not anymore. But, I used to hear a lot about you partying hard after…” Alicia gives a shuddering sigh. “Well. The last couple of years you’d seemed to have cleaned up your image. I’d figured you’d either cut down on your partying or gotten better at hiding it, but it really seems to have picked up since last December. Did something happen?”

Kent flushes hot and fights back an urge to snap something snarky at her. He reminds himself that she’s just worried about him. She doesn’t know anything about what happened at Samwell.

“It’s fine.” He shakes his head. “It’s just… you know, the time of the year. Like, first it’s the holidays, and then it’s New Year’s, and then Valentine’s Day and St. Patrick’s Day, and you know how Vegas is, we do everything big. And we’ve had a couple of new trades so I had to show them around town. It’s – it’s totally fine, Alicia, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Alicia takes another sip from her glass and then nods sagely before speaking. “I know what it’s like,” she begins. “I think you often forget that Bob’s not the only one who has something in common with you. I know what it’s like to be young and famous in a party culture. When I was nineteen and traveling around the world with other models, on my own for the first time without a chaperone, I hit the clubs every chance I got.”

Relief rushes over Kent. She gets it. It’s not going to be _that_ sort of conversation. It’s cool.

“And everyone around me just looked at me and thought it was perfectly normal,” Alicia continues. “That’s just how the young models act. They’re young, rich and unchaperoned, and they just want to test their limits. It’s a phase everybody grows out of in time.”

Kent nods and puts his feet up on the porch railing.

“And maybe that was true for my friends and roommates,” Alicia leans forward. “But I wasn’t testing my limits. I was self-medicating.”

Kent turns abruptly. “You… what?”

Alicia laughs, only slightly bitterly. “Where did you think Jack got his anxiety from? I was having panic attacks once or twice a week in those days. I loved my job, but any time I had to face the paparazzi or go someplace where I might be recognized I was a nervous wreck.”

Kent shakes his head. “I don’t–”

“Oh, I know,” Alicia laughs. “I’ve seen you at pressers. You have the room in the palm of your hand within seconds of speaking. I know you don’t have a problem with it. But I can see that something is hurting you.”

Kent feels that burning sensation again, along with a pit in his stomach. Why the _fuck_ are they having this conversation? He is _not_ broken. Who the _fuck_ does she think that she is? If he wanted to talk to his mother, he’d have gone to New York. This has _nothing_ to do with him.

“Social anxiety was what was hurting me,” Alicia continues, “and I was treating it with alcohol. And, you know what? It worked pretty well for me, or so I believed. One or two drinks would give me the courage to go out with the girls. After three or four? People actually thought I was funny. And after six, I didn’t even have to remember most of the night.”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” Kent cuts in.

“Neither was I,” Alicia shrugs. “Well, I don’t know, was I? I didn’t think I was. It wasn’t hurting my career. I was getting the best bookings of my life. I was making friends, and people actually thought I was fun. And at that point in my life, that was not something I was used to thinking about myself.”

“If everything was fine, then why are you even telling me this story?” Kent snaps.

“Because drinking might have quieted my anxiety for a bit,” Alicia explains, “but it didn’t make it go away. It didn’t make me feel any better in the morning. It didn’t fix what was really hurting me. I didn’t start going to therapy until I was at Samwell.”

“ _No_ ,” Kent cut her off. “I’m not–”

“This is my story now, Kent,” she interrupts sternly. “You can talk about yourself when I’m finished.

“I dropped in for finals stress relief, and I kept going back. I know now that I was lucky to find a good therapist right off the bat. I’ve gone to a number of therapists over the years. Every time I move and have to find a new one, I end up trying several before I find someone who works well for me. Even the most skilled and experienced therapist sometimes just isn’t a good fit for you. And it's no magic bullet. You have to work at it. But when you put in the work with the right therapist…” She leans forward.

“Kent, I’ve been going to therapy for the better part of thirty years now, and off and on antidepressants under my doctor’s supervision. I’d been off meds for a long time until…” She inhales deeply. “Well.” She sets her glass down.

“My turn to talk?” Kent asks, one eyebrow raised.

Alicia nods.

“I’m _not_ depressed. And I don’t have social anxiety. And I’m managing my partying just fine, thank you. Thank you for sharing what you did, but it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

Alicia shakes her head. “I don’t know what it is that’s bothering you. I’m not a licensed therapist or a priest, and I don’t expect you to confess anything to me. But I see that something’s hurting you. Something’s been hurting you since the winter. And I have some friends who live in Vegas, so I asked around–”

Kent blanches. “Alicia, _no_!”

“I didn’t say why or for whom,” Alicia shakes her head. “You should know me well enough by now to know that I would never disclose that kind of information to anyone. And I only asked friends that I trust, who’ve been in therapy and understand discretion.”

Kent bursts out of his chair and paces the porch. “I _can’t believe_ you would–”

She steps up next to him, three business cards in her hand. “They gave me a couple of recommendations for good therapists.”

“ _No_ , Alicia.”

“They work with celebrities, they have the utmost professionalism, and every one of them comes highly recommended.”

“I don’t need a therapist, Alicia!” Kent protests.

“ _Yes, you do_.” For the first time in the conversation, Alicia raises her voice. She doesn’t yell, but she speaks in a commanding tone that Kent hasn’t heard her use since he was a teenager. “You haven’t been yourself, Kent. It’s obvious to anyone who knows you. There’s clearly something hurting you. I don’t need to know what it is, but you can’t go on self-medicating and trying to ignore whatever it is. And I don’t think this is just about whatever happened this winter. No, I’m not asking what it was,” she cuts him off before he can interrupt her again.

She sighs deeply, looks up at the stars and then turns to him. “Kent, I’ve known you since you were sixteen years old. I love you, Bob and I adore you, but you’ve been hurting for as long as we’ve known you. All I want,” her voice quavers, “is for you to be happy.”

“I’m not Jack,” Kent intones quietly.

“This not about Jack, this is about you.” Alicia holds the cards out to Kent again. “I want you to try. I want you to try, and if none of these therapists are any good, or if you go and they all agree that you don’t need to come back for any more sessions, then you can come back out here and you can tell me to my face that I’m full of shit. But I want you to try, Kent.”

Kent looks dubiously at the cards.

“At least do it for me,” she reasons. “Will you try, Kent?”

Kent sighs and rolls his eyes. He grabs the cards out of Alicia’s hands and stuffs them in his pocket. “I’m only doing this to shut you up,” he mutters.

“Thank you,” Alicia whispers, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Don’t you cry.” He points a finger at her. “This isn’t some kind of a win. You didn’t win. I’ll be back here the next time we play the Habs to tell you how perfectly fine I am and how totally wrong you are.”

“I look forward to it,” Alicia nods.

_/ ✿ \\_

**2021**

Kent takes a deep breath. This is it. His life is about to change forever.

He opens the door to Bob's and Alicia’s smiling faces. “Now _there_ you are. You do like to keep us waiting, don’t you?” Bob teases.

“Oh Kent, congratulations!” Alicia pulls him into a warm hug, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Is everybody here?” Kent asks, fiddling with his cufflinks.

Bob nods, his brown eyes twinkling. “Your entire team, and most of your competitors. Half of the city of Las Vegas, to judge by the crowds.”

“I’ve been visiting with your sister.” Alicia smiles. “She is a delight! Where did she ever get those brains?”

“Wait… what are you saying about me?” Kent starts.

Alicia laughs. “Oh, but she has her hands full with that son of hers. He’s adorable, of course, but that _energy_!”

Kent laughs. “We Parson boys have always been a handful.”

“Don’t we know it.” Bob shakes his head.

“Alicia?” Bitty interrupts. “I’m going to need you to take your seat now.”

“Oh, of course!” Alicia exclaims. “What would we do without our Eric? He’s the perfect son-in-law; he keeps us all in line.” She grasps Kent’s hands and kisses him on both cheeks. “You go get him.” She winks at Kent before leaving to take her seat next to Kent’s mother.

“Well? Are you ready?” Bob holds his right hand out to Kent.

Kent’s heart pounds. “I just… I’m not sure about my hair…”

Bob guffaws. “Your hair looks fine, son. You look like yourself, and that’s exactly who he wants to see today.” He links his right arm around Kent’s left and pats his left hand comfortingly on Kent’s forearm. “Everybody’s ready for you. Jack’s standing up there waiting to be your Best Man, your mom and Alicia are about to cry buckets, and if I don’t start you walking down that aisle soon, I’m afraid Bitty might sprinkle some arsenic onto my slice of pie at the reception.”

“I would _never_!” Bitty’s head snaps up. “But the orchestra has been waiting for nearly thirty seconds to begin your entrance music and if you don’t enter soon people will start talking and it will ruin the mood and the atmosphere that I worked so hard to get perfect and…”

“Wow Bitty, I thought I was the nervous one!” Kent quips.

“There he is,” Bob laughs. “That’s the Kent I know. Now come on, son. Your future husband’s waiting for you. Let’s go out there and get you married.”

The music begins right on cue as Kent and Bob enter the room. Kent’s heart swells. He’s surrounded by everyone who loves him - his family, his friends - and the man of his dreams is waiting for him at the end of the aisle. Live doesn’t get any better than this.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to DizzyRedhead for making this so much better! 
> 
> The title is from "Kinky Boots", which is amazing and you should all see it if you ever get the chance.
> 
> Although I am not and have never been a model nor married to a professional athlete, much of Alicia's history here is based on my own.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! Please share your thoughts, comments, concrits, etc!


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